A couple of other things he’d learned was that big guys didn’t always take two shots, but the second was usually best reserved for any overeager wingmen that were ready and willing to step up to back them up. Fortunately no one had drawn a gun on him yet, and Cliff had already seen an opening he could use if he needed it. One punch later and he needed it as the second individual he’d expected went falling away, his nose a bloody mess as Cliff turned to run. The alleyway was only a short distance from where he was standing, but as he turned to make his way to the right, towards what would be an uncertain flight towards another part of town, he felt a hand grip at the pack on his back.
“Motherfucker!” he heard behind him, followed by a heart-rending rip as the top of his pack was torn open, revealing what he was carrying. He hadn’t though to hide it any better than this, and leaving it at home hadn’t been a smart option since despite his reliance on firearms in the house, BLM and Antifa had both been through his and his mother’s belongings a couple of times in the last few months. They hadn’t found all his hiding spots yet, but since they’d found one, the word was no doubt out among some of them that his home had a hidden compartment that they might find something in. For that reason his heart dropped as he heard the breathless words that came next.
“Flag,” he heard behind, “He’s got a, he’s got a flag! This motherf-!” That was as far as the individual got before Cliff was spinning around, driving his left elbow into the face of a woman that fell away instantly. She wasn’t alone unfortunately as more onlookers were coming over to see what was going on, most of them being like-minded no doubt and several more sporting BLM or Antifa gear as he muttered under his breath.
Only moments later he was running down the alley he’d noted, and the chase was on.
(to be continued)